Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(95)

I lowered the bed and shifted around until I got comfortable.

Jean picked up her phone and grinned at the screen before she tapped at it with her thumbs.

I knew what had put that look on her face. “Say hi to Hogan for me.”

She just snorted and curled up around her phone, her back toward me as if I were going to spy on her texts.

I watched her for a minute, a wash of melancholy filling me. I loved seeing her happy and excited in the beginning stages of a relationship. But seeing her so happy and relaxed just made me wonder how it had all gone wrong with Ryder.

The sex had been good.

No, it had been great. Fun and easy. My fantasy of what it might be like to be with Ryder had been thoroughly exceeded.

It was the after-sex part where things had fallen apart.

Old Rossi had warned me he was trouble. Old Rossi had been right.

I closed my watery eyes.

I’d been hoping for more. For a chance to explore…him, explore us. Explore what we could be together.

But that wasn’t in the cards. That wasn’t what he wanted. Ryder Bailey wasn’t the man I thought he was.

The image of him busting into the station, armed and ready to throw down, was hot, yes. Undeniably hot. And the worry in his eyes when I’d been bleeding. The anger that had quickly looked like regret until he stowed it away. All that added up to…what?

Confusion. Ryder Bailey confused me.

Ryder Bailey didn’t want me.

And I didn’t want him.

Liar.

I ignored my heart and let the painkillers take me gently into sleep.





Chapter 29


IT HAD taken until Sunday afternoon for me to be discharged from the hospital. I couldn’t prove that they were dragging their feet to make me pay for checking myself out early before. But after repeated reminders that I was injured, and should not be left on my own because I was likely to just re-injure myself, I got the hint.

Myra strolled into the lobby just as I was finally holding my release papers and trying to decide who I was going to call for a ride.

“Home?” she asked.

“I want a shower and a change of clothes.”

She was quiet as we walked out to the cruiser. After we were both inside her car, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

She started the engine and maneuvered out into traffic. “We can’t find Cooper.”

A chill ran through me as the power twisted. “What?”

“Jean told me you thought Cooper would be the right fit for Heimdall’s power. So I went to find him. He’s gone.”

“What do you mean, gone? How gone?”

“We think he left town yesterday. The last person who saw him said he had his backpack over his shoulder and was walking north.”

“Hell,” I breathed.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “I put out an APB. If he’s hitching, we’ll find him once he hits a town.”

I knew we’d find him. Eventually. But I only had two days left before this god power would no longer remain on hold. I had to find someone to give it to by tomorrow. After that, the power would tear Ordinary and all of its inhabitants apart.

“Okay. I think we need a plan B.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I need to be around as many people as possible. Maybe there’s someone else the power will respond to. But first I want clean clothes.”

~~~

THE RALLY was busy even though it was early evening by the time Myra and I made it to the festival. The weather was mild and clear, and the strings of lights hung off wooden arches and booths created a canopy of glowing color, lending an irresistible magic to the place.

Rides roared and hissed and burbled with music on the south end of the rally. We made our way slowly past those, in between the even-noisier carnival games where a few folks called out and waved to Myra and me.

I’d taken the time to shower at home and changed into comfortable jeans, Converse, and a sweater. I’d wasted a few extra minutes in my bedroom, staring at the blankets still messy from the night with Ryder, his cologne lingering on my sheets. The little origami Spud still rested on his pillow. I should’ve just thrown it away.

Instead, I’d picked up the tiny dog and tucked it into my purse.

Memories of the night flowed through me. Honesty in the darkness, need and release and pleasure. We had both wanted that. Wanted each other. How had the daylight turned it into lies? “Good a place as any. Let’s rest.” Myra’s voice pulled me out of my reverie. We had wandered past the food stalls, which were centrally located along the main pathway. Picnic tables, chairs, and benches gathered in the area.

“I’m not hurt that bad,” I grumbled.

She gave me a look and pointed at the bench. “I’ll believe that when you aren’t the color of paste.”

“Sparkly paste?” I eased down onto the bench, trying not to favor my side.

She snorted. “Want something to eat?”

I drummed my fingers on the table and grinned at her. “You always try to feed people to make them feel better.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes.

“No, it’s kind of sweet. Mom used to do that.”

Her eyes drifted over my shoulder. “I remember that.”

Mom had been gone for fifteen years. Myra had been ten years old when she died. I’d been thirteen, and as the oldest, probably had the most memories of her. Still, as time went on, more and more details of her had faded and blurred.